


Notes

by Happilysunlight (sunlight)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, First Kiss, M/M, anonymous notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 13:10:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5128832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunlight/pseuds/Happilysunlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis drops notes in Harry's locker, Harry who was his best friend, but hasn't talked to in a year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Notes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cheers_Cheshire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheers_Cheshire/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Notes (Записки)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5149247) by [nationalanthem18](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nationalanthem18/pseuds/nationalanthem18)



> Pinch hitting for the Autumn Fic Exchange! Cheers_Cheshire wanted high school enemies to lovers, and I kind of took a spin on that! Hope you like it!

Maybe a Love/Hate AU where Harry and Louis have had a crush on each other since elementary school but don't know how to tell each other. So they both get equally bad advice on how to approach the other and show that affection. (AKA boys being mean to show they like each other) Well this picking on each other is taken the wrong way in both directions and as they grow up it's a giant cycle of love/hate. Until maybe like they get to high school and true feelings come out somehow and idk that would seem really cute.

Louis peers around the corner to make sure he doesn’t miss Harry coming by. Harry, who he hasn’t talked to in a year, who looks away quickly every time they accidentally make eye contact. Harry, who hasn’t smiled in weeks, who has had dark circles under his eyes for months, who hasn’t laughed out loud since last spring. 

Harry, who is walking toward his locker right now. Louis quickly pulls his entire body out of sight, counts to thirteen, and then rounds the corner as if he’s just gotten here and just so happens to need to go down this hallway, never mind his next class is in an entirely different part of the building. 

He can see Harry holding the note, his eyebrows creased in the center, lips slightly turned down at the sides. He hasn’t opened it yet. He slows to watch Harry from the other side of the hallway. 

Harry carefully unfolds the creased edges and turns it around. Louis tries to stare as nonchalantly as possible, not wanting to draw attention to himself. Harry’s lifting an eyebrow in what looks like confusion. 

The note is simple, just a quickly jotted down “I miss your smile.”

Louis had debated what to write, should it be a compliment, a joke, maybe something else? Regardless, he knew he couldn’t tell Harry the note was from him. That had to stay a secret, because Harry wouldn’t take it seriously, would probably tear it into pieces. Or worse, Harry’s eyes could have welled up with tears like the last time he tried to talk to him.

Louis shakes himself out of that train of thought. He tries not to remember the last time they spoke, the morning after a fight that hadn't even seemed too bad, how when Louis had tried to talk to Harry and apologize for not being himself the night before, how Harry had teared up and left. 

Louis’ reached the end of the short hallway, and he spares one more covert glance back in Harry’s direction. Harry, who has the faintest glimmer of a smile, of a blush on his cheeks, and of sparkling eyes. Harry who is still looking at the note fondly, like it’s made his entire day. Louis bolts down the staircase hastily--he’s only got one minute to make it to class.

==

He drops the next note in Harry’s locker the next morning, had gotten to school before zero hour had started to ensure Harry would be smiling even before he went to his chamber choir rehearsal. It’s simple again, but this time a little bit more daring. “Your smile is really cute, especially when your cheeks blush too.” 

Louis had embarrassed himself writing it, had worried that it’d be too forward, but then couldn’t stop thinking of the way Harry’s reddened cheeks had lit up his entire face. Couldn’t deny that it was getting more difficult to not think about other ways he could make him blush, perhaps make him gasp or cry out. 

Louis stakes himself out on the windowsill at the end of the hallway, takes out a notebook to make it look like he’s come to school early to study, not just to put a note into his former best friend’s locker and then watch his response. Anyone who knows Louis knows that he’s almost always late for his first class, so he has to at least have an excuse for being there an hour early. 

The thermos Louis brought with him in the morning is his solace. It’s warm in between his hands, the smell of tea making him feel warm despite the chill in the air.

A quick bounce of curls in his periphery catches his attention and he stills. He takes a few deep breaths before turning his head to look down the hallway, to catch Harry opening his locker. He's bent over and zipping up his backpack, and the note is still sitting in the top part of his locker, undisturbed. Louis watches as Harry picks up his backpack and goes to hang it on a hook, but stops when he notices the folded paper. Harry lowers his backpack to the bottom of his locker, his attention diverted from hanging it up.

Harry’s hand quivers as he reaches for the paper, and he takes a deep breath before unfolding the note and opening his eyes to see what’s written today. His eyebrows shoot up and his breath stiltens. Immediately, there’s a slight blush coloring his cheeks, and Louis is reminded again of the thoughts from the night before, of imagining Harry’s red face and mouth open, letting out little gasps and deep moans. Louis turns his face back to his notebook and prays that Harry won’t look his way and see the matching blush on his face. 

The click of a locker and padlock closing is all Louis goes by to assume the coast is clear, and after a slow turn of his head to confirm Harry’s left, he lets out the breath of air he’s been holding in. 

He can’t let that happen again, needs to make sure there’s no risk of Harry seeing him. But part of him really wants Harry to know it’s him, wants to talk again for real. 

==

The next few days, Louis puts notes into Harry’s locker at different times to make sure that he won’t get caught. Can’t establish a pattern for Harry to catch onto. 

First, there’s “Don’t listen to what they say, your curls are beautiful and you don’t need to cut them!” 

He follows that with a dumb joke he knows Harry would love. “Did you hear about the two guys who stole a calendar? They both got six months.”

And after listening around the corner to the almost laugh Harry lets out in response, he drops “Your laugh is delightful,” into his locker the same day. 

After a week, Louis is feeling braver each time he passes Harry in the hallways, sending quick smiles his way, even though they’re often met with a brief look of questioning. He misses when they were friends, he misses spending time pressed next to Harry on a couch, watching movies, having sleepovers, misses laughing and smiling together. Even if he can’t have what he wants from their relationship, he misses Harry as a friend, as the person he cares the most about in the world. 

==

“Harry, I miss you. Why did we stop talking?”

==

It takes Harry a few moments to respond when he opens the note for him to realize what this could possibly mean. He’d thought these were coming from someone he’d never spoken to, from a freshman with a misguided crush, or someone who didn’t like seeing sad people, but didn’t know him. 

But this? This makes his heart beat faster, makes him wonder if possibly, maybe it could be from who he wants it to be from. That maybe Louis is trying to reconnect.

Harry crushes the note in his hands and stuffs it in his back pocket in a moment of frustration. He’ll regret wrinkling it later, when he tries to smooth it out to join the rest of the notes. But now, he can’t let himself think about that possibility; it'll simply make things harder when he finds out it’s not him. He runs a hand through his hair as he locks his locker, and upon turning he bumps directly into none other than Louis himself. 

“Oh, shit. Sorry-Harry,” Louis says, bending down to retrieve the notebook Harry had dropped. “Are you alright?” 

Harry nods, unable to find his voice at first. Louis returns the notebook to him with a smile, and the gesture seems genuinely friendly. “Thank you, yeah, I’m okay. Thank you,” he gets out, voice a bit rough with nerves. 

“See you around, Harry!” Louis says, a bright tone lacing through his words, his smile evident just in hearing him talk, but Harry wouldn’t have been able to believe it without having seen the evidence in front of him. Louis is smiling, his eyes are even crinkling in the corners, this is a real Louis smile. A real Louis smile directed toward Harry.

Louis is long gone by now, but Harry turns down the nearest hallway and runs to the bathroom. He won’t make it to his next class, but his mum will understand. He spends a lot of time in the bathroom instead of in class, life too much to deal with at times. 

His usual stall is open, and he pitches his things to the ground and sinks against the wall. He takes the crushed note out of his pocket and just stares at it for a minute. 

He grabs his folder with the rest of the notes out of his backpack, lines them all up in order. Twelve notes in all. All with the same familiar handwriting. He doesn’t beat himself up for not noticing it before, because truthfully, it’s been so long since he’s seen it. 

==

Harry stakes out the hallway the next day, spends as much time between classes peering around the corner and waiting to see if his hunch is, in fact, true. He’s keeping his hopes as low as possible, trying not to think about what this could mean for the two of them.

When he stops by his locker after watching the hallway for nearly the entire lunch period, he finds another note. His hands are shaking and he holds his breath as he unfolds it, nervous to see what it says.

“Can we talk?” 

Harry feels the tension in his shoulders release as his head falls to his chest. He can feel tears brimming in his eyes and it’s all too much for him. The person want to talk. Louis wants to talk. 

Harry feels a tap on his shoulder, one that’s soft, almost hesitant and questioning. He turns his head to see Louis standing there, biting his lower lip and hands fidgeting. 

They make eye contact and Harry can feel the worry coming off of Louis, and he’s sure that his own is just as palpable. 

Louis smiles. “Hey. I, uh. I wanted to say some stuff.” 

“Yeah, yes, of course. Do you want to go to mine? Mum’s not home, we can go there now?” 

“Who are you, what have you done to Curly? Not worried about skipping school? You’ve changed!” 

Harry can feel his cheeks coloring as he smiles in response to the nickname. He’s reminded of one of the first notes, saying he looked cute when he blushes. He’d forgotten about that. Oh god. Louis had called him cute, could this mean- 

“Harry? Should we,” he trails off, gesturing down the hall. “Lunch is almost over.” Louis starts stepping away.

Harry nods and shuts his locker and falls into step with Louis. They continue together in silence, and they leave out the front door by pretending to have second lunch. Harry still feels a bit of a thrill leaving school without permission. He might be okay with skipping, but he hasn’t changed that much, and he still feels the heat of worry in the pit of his stomach, not to mention the feelings he’s having about these letters, about talking to Louis. 

Harry looks over to Louis, who’s leading the way despite that they’re walking to Harry’s house. He’d always been the leader between the two of them, always the one to take Harry’s hand and pull him along to whatever adventure he had picked out for them. Louis sends him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but is reassuring nonetheless.

Harry pulls his jacket a bit tighter around his torso and thanks his mum silently for choosing a home so close to school. They walk in silence for just a few minutes before stepping inside the front door. 

Both toe off their shoes, and Harry starts toward the kitchen, knowing that if Louis hasn’t changed, he’ll still want a cup of tea before anything else. Louis looks around, hesitant, probably taking in the changes, the new couch, the updated photos in their frames on the walls, the small additions that Robin has brought with him since moving in months ago. Harry gestures to Louis to follow him, and the two stand in silence while Harry gets the kettle started.

Louis is the one who eventually breaks their silence. “So, Harry. I-uh. I wanted to say first, uh. That everything I wrote is true.” Harry picks his head up and looks to Louis, who has now perched himself on the barstool at the breakfast counter. “I miss you a lot, and I don’t know why we stopped talking.” 

Harry’s chest tightens at that. “You don’t know why?” He says, a tinge of anger coloring his tone.

“I mean, I know we fought. I remember that, I just don’t understand why we stopped being friends,” he says. “We’d fought before, why was that the time that did it?” 

“Do you really not remember? You don’t remember that fight being different at all?” Harry sighs. 

“Harry, please. I don’t-” He shakes his head. “You know I was drunk, I don’t know what we said, I’m sorry.”

“Lou, no one said anything. The fight was fine, it was stupid. You just- you kissed me. Do you not remember?” 

Louis’ eyes shoot wide open and his posture stiffens, back and neck rigid. He’s silent for a few moments before looking down to his hands. 

“Harry, why didn’t you tell me? I’m sorry, it didn’t mean anything, you don’t have to be scared about me doing it again.” Louis frets with his hands, wringing them together and

“Louis, that's not,” he stops. The kettle is whistling, so he grabs it from the stovetop and pours it into the mug he'd pulled out for Louis earlier.

“Then why-”

“Because, Louis. It didn't mean anything to you. You just said so. You knew how I felt about you, and I couldn't just. I couldn't do it.” He pushes the mug over to Louis 

“Harry. What? Haz. No, I thought,” he pauses. “You had feelings for me?”

“I've known for as long as I can remember,” he replies, head turned away to avoid the pitying look Louis is surely giving him. 

Louis takes out the teabag from his mug with the spoon, and uses both hands to bring the tea to his lips and take a long sip. 

“H, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't know, I'm sorry you felt like we couldn't be friends.”

So it's true, and it meant nothing to Louis. At least now Harry knows.

“Haz, most of all I'm sorry you thought it meant nothing.” 

He whips back around to look at Louis. “What-” 

“Harry, love. It meant everything to me. You meant everything to me. You still do.”

Harry pushes off the counter where he's been leaning, and rounds the corner to wrap his arms around Louis. 

Louis tightens his arms around Harry's neck instantly, pulling him down and crashing their chests together. Harry hunches his shoulders over to bury his face in Louis’ neck and squeezes him closer. Harry's grown since the last time they embraced like this, he's taller and a bit broader all around, but they still fit together like it was made to be.

“Lou-” he says, voice threatening to betray the sob he's holding in his throat. “Lou.” Harry feels Louis’ fingers tighten and dig into his shirt. 

“Haz, I'm so sorry,” he says. “I'm sorry we stopped talking, I'm sorry for everything. You still mean so much to me.”

“No, Lou, it's. I'm glad we're talking now. I'm glad we're figuring this out.” He sniffles. “Me too, Lou. You still mean so much. ” 

They pull away from the hug, remaining in each others’ arms. Louis brings his hands to Harry's face and holds his cheek with one, and snakes the other hand around to the back of his neck.

They spend a few moments with their eyes locked. Harry closes his eyes and brings their foreheads together. His heart is speeding in his chest and his breaths are uneven. 

“Louis, can I-can I kiss you?” 

Louis pulls him in and presses their lips together. It's so much better than the first time. Not preceded with a fight, but instead with the understanding that this mean something. 

Louis moves his lips against Harry's with a bit more insistence and tugs at the curls at the top of his neck. Harry responds with a moan in his throat, and pulls back from the kiss. 

“What, Haz, why are you making that face?” 

“Uh, I think-I think maybe that might be. Maybe a thing for me. The hair.” Louis tugs again and Harry gasps, deeper and louder this time. “Lou, oh my-” 

Louis surges forward again, starts kissing him again with more heat behind it. He presses against his lips and coaxes them open, teases his tongue along his lower lip and prods against Harry's tongue. 

After several minutes of them kissing, of their crotches getting dangerously close to pressing against each other, Harry pulls back. 

“Lou, this, I want this, I want more, but can we stop for now? Can we just, can we watch a movie and cuddle? I miss doing things with you.” Louis’ started nodding before he's even finished the sentence, and he pulls them to the living room. 

They settle in, choosing a tv series they can half pay attention to, half kiss each other lazily.

And when Anne walks in later and sees their hands held tightly together, the way their lips are puffy and wet, she smiles, happy they've finally figured themselves out.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr [here](http://www.happilysunlight.tumblr.com)! Let me know what you thought, here or there!


End file.
